Captive Love
by Ziva- Zia- Z
Summary: A girl stolen in daylight, sold to 'savages', grew to learn her captivity had turned to love. Now, a child born from that stolen love faces her own captivity. But unlike the girl before, hers is willing. She'll soon discover, that the world she comes from & the world she has chosen are just too different, & there may be deadly consequences, for all she loves, in both her worlds.
1. Chapter 1

**Captive Love**

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**Summary: A girl stolen in broad daylight and sold to a race of 'savages', grew to learn her captivity had turned to love. Now, a child born from that stolen love faces her own captivity. But unlike the girl before her, hers is willing. She will soon discover, however, that the world she comes from and the world she has chosen are just too different, and that there may be deadly consequences, for all she loves, in both her worlds. Sequel to _Stolen Love_, set between 1877 - 1881, with the exception of the first chapter. Keep those in mind, the dates are important. Fiyeraba. Mulhama/Tibbett. **

**A****/N: ****Written: 2014. Found: 2018.- Licia**

_Arjiki Encampment,_

_Kellswater,_

_Winter,_

_1872_

A scream pierced the air; primal and animalistic and wild.

The fire crackled, giving off more than enough warmth; it was too much for the laboring young woman though. She bore down as hard as she could, holding tight to her sister-in-law's hands as the young medicine man and his wife worked to help her. She had been at this for hours; her waters had burst two hours earlier, not that it did any good, and she was exhausted.

_"Facilità, con facilità, sorella. Un bambino non verrà se lo si forza; Lo so. È più facile lasciare che il bambino venga dal suo invece di forzarlo."_ The older woman kissed her head; she knew of what she spoke, for she had found herself in the position of childbirth four times before, and had learned over the years that it was best to let her body take control. When the babe was ready to enter the world, then they would leave her womb, and not before.

The young woman shook her head, letting out a cry. Her husband stayed back; she had refused his touch, his comfort, in favor of his sister's, and after a moment, he turned on the medicine man and his wife. "Why are you not _helping_ her? You are skilled in the ways of medicine, surely there's something you can do to help my wife-"

"We can do nothing until the babe decides to come." The medicine man replied in unbroken English, for he had been born of the white world before finding a home in his tribe as a child. His wife turned to glance at the man, turning back to her husband before getting up and going to the anxious father. Without a word, she pushed him gently from the tent, into the chilled winter air. Once outside, he turned from her, running a hand through his hair as he began to pace; the woman, only a couple years older than him, watched, the buckskin wrap around her shoulders being pulled closer to her skin. The single braid that hung down her back was woven with a simple leather ribbon, and the twelve green diamonds upon her wrists- six on each- glimmered in the strong winter moonlight; it made her pale skin even paler. Looking between them, it was easy to see they were related, and were one to look at the woman comforting the laboring mother within the tent, they would see the similarities there as well, coming to the conclusion that all three were siblings.

Suddenly, he turned on her, fear in his voice as he spoke. "_Do something!_ You're the _medicine woman_, it is_ your job to help in such matters!_"

She crossed her arms, studying him silently before speaking. "_Ti sbagli, fratello. Mio marito è l'uomo delle medicine._ I am his _wife_."

"But you are still _trained-_"

"_Addestrato o no, non è il mio posto-_ our place- _di interferire quando è il momento per un bambino_ to enter the world._ È compito di una donna portare per una nuova vita._ We are built for it, created for it. Meant to carry the lines;_ il corpo di una donna, e l'atto di nascita, è sacro e non deve essere interferito_. I'm sorry, I cannot interfere, and I _will not_ interfere, and neither will my husband. _Non è il nostro posto_."

_"Not your place?"_ The man scoffed angrily. "That is _my wife, Nessarose! The woman I love!_" He caught a glimmer of anger flash within her eyes, the hard swallow of her throat against the lump at the sound of her former name, and by extension, her former life. For she had lived nine years within the tribe; her sister had lived longer- sixteen- within the tribe, from the tender age of thirteen. "And you mean to tell me, that even though your husband is the medicine man, and you his wife, that you will not help her through this? That you will let her suffer this... unbearable pain?"

"_La sofferenza può essere seguita solo dalla gioia, fratello._ What is unbearable to her now will be forgotten once the babe enters the world."

_"The babe is not here yet!"_ But before he could continue, a shriek cut through the argument, followed by a harsh, loud scream, and both hurried back into the tent. They found the medicine man sucking the fluid from the babe's nose, as the chief turned to his brother-in-law, grinning; for he and his wife had been doing their best to provide comfort to the laboring woman. The young man glanced between them, mind spinning.

_"Ha portato un figlio."_ The young man locked eyes with his brother-in-law.

"A son?" However, before anyone could respond, the young mother pushed herself back into a sitting position, letting out another cry of pain. She grabbed her sister-in-law's hand, squeezing. "What's happening? What's wrong?" He hurried to her, kneeling down by her side. "_Candle?_ Candle, look at me. _Parlami, amore_." His Arjiki was soft, unsure but getting better, for he had good teachers in the family. She shook her head, turning from him with a cry.

The other woman shooed him away with a click of her tongue, the meaning clear. _There is nothing you can do for her, brother._

He backed up, bumping into the chief, who rested a steadying hand on his shoulder. "_What's happening?_ The baby's born, so why is she-" In his head, he knew what it was, but he was so worried about her, so tightly wound in fear for her, for she'd been at this for hours, that his brain couldn't even _consider_ entertaining the notion.

Gently pushing past her husband, the young medicine bride knelt before her sister-in-law, reaching two fingers into her to check that it was true. "She is to bear another one."

_"Gemelli."_ Her older sister replied, from her place behind the younger woman, concern in her voice. Moments passed, with only the young mother's whimpers breaking the tension, and the medicine bride nodded.

_"Un'altra bambina."_ She gently removed her fingers, reaching up and resting a hand on the woman's belly, pressing gently. The mother cried out in pain, and the sisters shared a glance. "It's coming, fast." She removed the shawl she wore, reaching for the basin of water not far away and dipping a softened cloth of buckskin into it before wringing it out and holding it gently against the laboring mother's opening. Her other hand against the woman's belly, she timed the pains in her head; something she had not done when she'd had her first- though that had been an experience she'd swore she'd never repeat, only to do so twice more. And her sister, four in total._ "Tieniti giù, sorella. Orso giù, subito!" _

The woman did as told, digging her nails into her sister-in-law's hands, a scream escaping her throat. This continued for several minutes, before finally, something began to appear. With a _pop_, the second babe's head appeared, and the young woman gently rubbed her sister-in-law's belly. "Good, good girl, Candle. _Di nuovo. Orso giù!" _

Another scream as she continued to push. _"Continua a sopportare, Candela. Presto sarà finita."_ Trying to take her sister-in-law's words to heart, the woman gave one more strong, hard, final push. With a burst of blood and fluid, the second babe slid into their aunt's embrace, a strong wail alerting everyone within the tent to the reality that they were now there. Candle collapsed back in her sister-in-law's arms, chest heaving as she caught her breath, gaze searching for her husband, who hurried to her. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her softly, even as the medicine man laid the first baby in his wife's arms before taking the second and doing the same.

_"Un ragazzo e una ragazza."_ He whispered. As the new parents turned their attention to their children, the medicine man beckoned the others outside. Once the flap of the tent had fallen, and they'd moved a mild distance away, he turned to the other three. "This is not good. _Non va affatto bene._"

His wife furrowed a brow; though she had lived nine years within the tribe, borne three children herself, there were still some things she did not fully understand that her sister and husband did. "Why is it not good, husband? So Candle_ ha portato gemelli Shell. Sono forti e sani e saranno amati immensely_-"

_"Non capisci, sorella."_ She turned, facing the chief and his wife.

"I do not understand? _Allora dimmi, Fabala._ _Explain_ it to me. _Cosa c'è di così sbagliato se una donna allafa due twins?_" The chieftess met her husband's gaze, before taking his hand.

_"I gemelli sono un presagio."_ The chief whispered, pulling his wife close as she shivered, but not from the winter cold.

"An _omen_?"

"In Arjiki legend, twins are considered the splitting of a soul; they are viewed as bad omens for the tribe. Death or worse will come if twins are born to an Arjiki woman within the tribe-"

"But Candle is no longer _of the tribe_. She married our brother, surely that legend means _nothing_ now." She turned to her brother and sister-in-law. "They live_ nel mondo bianco-"_

_"Ma li ha partoriti all'interno di terre tribali."_ Her sister replied, as her husband pulled her closer.

"And even if she _hadn't_, Candle is _still_ Arjiki, even though she married a white."

_"Sarà sempre Arjiki."_ The chief replied, glancing at his wife; his father had told her something similar long ago.

"_Arjiki è, e Arjiki lei rimarrà_, no matter how long she lives in the white world. _You_ of all people should know that, Mulhama." The woman sighed in agitation, glancing between her husband and her sister. She knew, all too well, because they both had lived in the white world for a time- though for her sister, it was only little under a week before the separation started to kill her, for her husband, it was thirteen years.

_"Allora cosa facciamo? Cosa suggerisce la leggenda di fare?"_ The medicine man glanced at the chief, who bit his lip. "Tibbett?" She turned to the others. "Fiyero? Fabala? _Elphaba?_" The chieftess ignored her, lowering her gaze before curling into her husband's embrace. She had once near faced birthing twins, but one had died within her womb before it made its presence known, though Sarima had been able to discern that there had once been two within her. Her oldest daughter had come into the world five months later, and no one except her and Sarima had been the wiser that two had once grown within her womb. When she finally _had_ found the courage to tell her husband, she'd been surprised to discover that he was relieved at the loss of the second baby.

At first upset by his reaction, she'd soon understood when he'd explained the legend of twins, and the implications of two being born from the same womb at the same time. That only evil could come from twins, and that the splitting of one soul to reside in two bodies was considered an ill omen for the tribe. To this day, only she, Sarima, and Fiyero knew the truth, and Nor, her precious baby girl, was none the wiser that she had once shared her mother's womb. Though no one knew that even such a short-lived twin pregnancy would unknowingly shape the destiny of the young princess, who, at twelve moons was just beginning to enter the first years of her womanhood.

_"Nella leggenda di Arjiki, se i gemelli viventi sono nati da una donna della tribù,"_ Mulhama watched her brother-in-law take a deep breath, tugging his wife closer. Elphaba turned her head, fully silent, though listening intently. Her husband's hands rested over her womb, and she reached down, covering his hands with hers. He met his sister-in-law's eyes, voice soft. _"Nella leggenda di Arjiki, se i gemelli viventi sono nati da una donna della tribù, allora il bambino che lascia il grembo materno secondo è destinato ad essere sacrifificato, per salvare non solo il primo bambino, ma la tribù."_

"Save the tribe from _what?_"

_"Morte."_ Elphaba finally choked out, though she didn't look at her sister.

"Or worse." Tibbett added, as his wife turned to him. But before she could open her mouth to respond, the tent flap lifted. He called to his sisters and their husbands, and after several minutes, they returned to the tent, quick glances passing between them.

_Do not tell, for he is a white, and will not understand._

Such a thought showed just how deeply entrenched in the tribe the medicine man, his wife, and the chieftess were, when they referred to another who bore the same skin as them- they saw themselves not as whites living with Arjiki- captives of savage Indians, as many in the white world believed- but as Arjiki. So long within the tribe, they considered themselves to be of them, no longer seeing themselves as captives or outsiders as others did. They were Arjiki, as Arjiki as the young chief Elphaba had married at thirteen moons, when he was just a young prince, and his father- who had walked within the other world one hundred and seventeen moons ago- had been chief. To them, their world within the tribe and the white world they had been born of, were two entirely separate worlds, and needed to remain so.

As the chief and his wife slipped back into the tent, Mulhama turned to her husband. "Tibbett?"

He met her gaze. "_Si,_ wife?"

She sighed, smiling softly. "Candle _asked_ to birth in the village. She did not want to birth in the white world, for the men who call themselves doctors do not listen to women. She asked to birth here because she knew that she would be safe here, protected, because she would be surrounded by family. Not just Shell, but all of us. If there is any way we can preserve both her children-"

Her husband sighed. "I don't know. Twins have not grown within an Arjiki woman's womb for centuries, until now. This is not something we have experienced before." He then went inside, and after a moment she followed, both unaware of how wrong he was, and that the first woman to carry twins within her womb had married the chief when he was fourteen moons, and she merely thirteen.

Once back inside, they gathered around the young pair. Their younger brother cradled the little girl in his arms, his wife the little boy. The chief and his wife sat not far from them, she settled in his lap, both lost in their own thoughts, an entire conversation passing between the pair with a few quick squeezes of their hands. As they settled not far from them, Shell cleared his throat. "We've... we've thought of names for them both." The pair shared a glance before turning back to the others.

"Our son will be Grimalkin," Shell said, and Elphaba smiled softly. She knew the name; had discussed it as a possibility before they'd settled on Manek for their third child. It meant 'Dancing Fire'; a strong, sturdy name for a boy.

"_E nostra figlia,_ Greyling." Candle added; she could speak the white man's language, but it was much more difficult for her to pick up than for her husband to pick up Arjiki, even though she'd lived now four years in the white world. Fiyero chuckled softly at the name, which meant 'Blooming Rose'; he'd proposed the same name to Elphaba when she'd been pregnant with Nor, but his wife- at the time greatly swollen and due to birth in just two weeks- had instantly told him no, no matter how beautiful the name truly was. She had already decided on Nor, if she carried a girl within her womb, and would not budge on her choice.

Fiyero kissed his wife's shoulder; despite his fears, it was not his place, nor the right time, to inform his brother-and-sister-in-law of the legend. Instead, he held his wife close, watching the pair silently. He, like his wife and brother-in-law, could not get the niggling feeling that with the birth of his brother-and-sister-in-law's twins, that their tribe was destined for something, but he didn't know what.


	2. Chapter 2

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**A****/N: ****Written: 2014. Found: 2018.- Licia**

_Arjiki Encampment,_

_Kellswater,_

_Winter,_

_1876_

She worked the brush through the thick black locks, ignoring the child's whimpers. The new year was fast approaching- in another few hours, the old year would fall away and the new year take its place- and all in the tribe were preparing for the celebration as Father Time cast aside another year. It was another year that would be prosperous for the Arjiki, for the tribe had seen nothing but good fortune these last twelve years, after the sisters from the legend had returned, and both survived the births of their children.

_"Ahi! Mamma, non così difficile!"_

The chieftess sighed, turning her daughter's head to face forward again before she continued to work on her daughter's hair. The girl, like her siblings, had inherited the black strands from her mother- not a single one of the four royal children carried a strand of their father's golden brown, though each did possess his striking blue eyes- and they were just as long and pin straight.

And currently, littered with twigs and leaves and prickly burrs.

For though it was the last day of the last month, the last day of the old year, the girl had still gone out with her siblings to play- despite her older brother being seventeen, her younger brother being fifteen, her younger sister twelve, and she herself sixteen moons- they were still allowed to act like children on occasion. Their parents, though they were the Chief and Chieftess of the tribe, would occasionally take a day and spirit off to the waterfall, where they'd play in the water for hours, no longer adults with four growing children and a tribe to lead, but the young teenagers they'd been when she'd first arrived, when they'd first been married, before parenthood had forced them to grow up. It was on those days when the sight of her parents coming back from the waterfall- Papa's skin glistening wet and Mama wringing the water out of her braids- made her wish to have known her parents when they were younger.

_"Se non vuoi andare precipitando nei guai come fai tu, allora non farebbe tanto male. Siete sedici lune, non sei, dovete iniziare a comportarvi così."_

_"Come te? Vecchio e severo e noioso? Ahi!"_

Her mother tugged the brush through the black strands in response, before looking over her shoulder to meet her gaze. _"Tu non conosci il peso che il tuo papà porta sulle sue spalle. Sono sua moglie, è mio dovere stare al suo fianco e aiutarlo a gestirlo. Noi guidiamo questa tribù insieme; non abbiamo tempo per scappare a giocare. Ci sono cose più importanti che giocare, Nor."_

_"Tu e Papà non vi siete mai divertiti una volta, Mama?_"

The chieftess looked up at her youngest daughter, who sat cradling a doll, her long black hair having been worked on earlier; her older brothers sat playing Pistaka- a game involving small, brightly painted sticks and beans. Her sparking dark gaze softened at her youngest child; it had been this babe's arrival in the world that had helped to reinvigorate the tribe, for after several hours of hard, painful, difficult labor, she had finally slid from her mother's womb, as strong and healthy as the cousin who had also been born at that same minute, providing the legend of the sisters with a favorable outcome. She sighed, continuing to work on her oldest daughter's hair, albeit gentler this time. _"L'abbiamo fatto, molto prima che qualcuno di voi si trasferisse nel mio grembo."_

She reached up, gently plucking a burr from her daughter's hair.

_"E dopo? E dopo?"_

A soft chuckle, another pluck, this one a dead leaf that had tucked itself with the black locks that she had nearly missed. _"È più difficile divertirsi dopo che una bambina è nata dal tuo grembo. Soprattutto quando un altro viene a prendere il suo posto mesi dopo."_

She reached around, tapping her daughter on the nose. After her oldest son had been born, seven months later, they had conceived her oldest daughter; four months after Nor had arrived, their youngest son, Manek had been conceived. The only one of their children who did not immediately follow their siblings was Oziandra, the youngest, who'd been conceived the day her mother returned to the tribe from the white man's world. She had burst forth from her mother's womb on the eve of the spring equinox, in March of eighteen-sixty-four, completing their family, and bringing good fortune to the tribe, for her mother had survived the long, hard, difficult labor.

_"Volevi averci, Mama?"_

_"Sorella! Come osi chiederlo! Certo, Mama voleva averci."_ The older girl stopped, thinking. She turned to face her mother, voice small. _"Non è vero?"_ Her mother kept silent, surprised at such a question. _"Volevi che noi, vero, Mama?"_

After a moment, she reached up, cradling her oldest daughter's head in her hands. _"Certo che ti volevo. Volevo tutti voi. Dal momento in cui ho scoperto che ognuno di voi cresceva nel mio grembo, vi volevo. Sia io che papà l'abbiamo fatto"_

She kissed her daughter's head as Oziandra spoke. _"Ma Papà non ci ama tanto quanto te, Mama."_

_"Papà ha molto da fare, Ozia."_ Everyone turned as Irji spoke, never breaking his focus on the game. Elphaba returned to her task of brushing Nor's hair._ "È capo, è suo dovere guidare la nostra tribù. oes non significa che non ci ama meno di Mamma. Lei conduce al suo fianco, e anche se lei non è dello stesso colore, lei ama noi e il nostro popolo tanto se non più di Papà."_

_"Cosa vuol dire che la mamma non è dello stesso colore?"_

_"Non hai mai guardato la Mama?"_ Irji asked, nodding to Manek, who took his turn. The younger boy glanced towards his mother before turning back to his brother.

_"Non sapevo che avremmo dovuto."_ He replied as the brushing stopped. His brother rolled his eyes as Nor turned to look at her mother, confused. Oziandra started in surprise, turning to face her mother. Both girls stared at their mother, as though officially seeing her for the first time. _"È ancora Mama. Papà la ama nonostante la sua pelle, così dovremmo. Papà di cui con lei e ci ha fatto con lei, e io non ho mai avuto non gli importava che cosa la sua pelle sembrava, o che potremmo assomigliare a lei, era innamorato di lei. Non siamo riusciti a trovarti abbastanza velocemente! Ha fatto il suo dovere come moglie di papà, e gli ha portato figli, indipendentemente da quello che sembra."_

Elphaba, now the subject of both her daughters' gazes, lowered the brush, forcing herself to meet their gazes, taking comfort in her son's words. After a moment, Nor whispered, _"Non assomigli a Papà. Sembri zia Mulhama e zio Tibbett, e zio Shell." _

Her mother nodded.

_"Bianco?"_

The word bit as it left her daughter's mouth, and she winced. The last time she had heard such a tone had been from the soldiers at Fort Restwater, when she'd been stolen and brought back to 'society'. They had gawked at her strange dress and moccasins, the feathers and beads in her hair, and if they'd seen the diamonds on her back, they'd have gawked at them too. Their wives- those that were married- had taken pity on her, attempted to help her, offering to help her change into the white man's clothes, give her a bath, but she'd refused. She needed nor wanted nothing they could give; she simply wanted to return to her tribe and her family.

_"Con le credenze dell'uomo bianco, siete tutti bianchi."_ She replied, tapping her daughter on the shoulder with the brush. Slowly, the girl turned back around.

_"Allora perché non viviamo nel mondo bianco, come fa zia Candle con Uncle Shell?"_ Oziandra asked; Elphaba began working on Nor's hair again, rougher this time; even as the girl winced and whimpered.

_"Perché siamo nati Arjiki."_ Manek replied, as his turn finished and his brother took his.

_"Mama non lo era."_ Nor replied, crying out as her mother continued to work on her hair.

_"Ma ha sposato Papà. Ha gli stessi diamanti che facciamo tutti noi."_ Manek said.

_"Ma lei è ancora un bianco."_ Her mother stopped as silence fell.

_"Bianco nella pelle, ma non nell'anima, sorella."_ Irji replied. _"Forse non ti ricorderai quando papà l'ha bandita, ma io sì."_

Silence. Nor turned back to her mother. _"Sei stato bandito?"_ Elphaba lowered her gaze in confirmation.

_"Fu zia Mulhama che convinse papà a lasciarla ò verso di lui come un avvoltoio, incolpandolo per la mamma lasciando di nuovo. L'ha inseguita, l'ha riportata indietro."_ He turned to his youngest sister. _"E poi sei venuta l'anno successivo, sorellina."_ The teasing in the oldest boy's voice was obvious- _Clearly, Mama accepted Papa's bringing her back, othewise she would not have had you._

Elphaba chuckled softly, returning to work on her daughter's hair. Her oldest son was so much like his father, in both looks and personality, that there were times Elphaba forgot she'd given birth to the boy, for he would say something or get a look on his face that was so like Fiyero. Eventually, she was able to finish Nor's hair, but before anyone could speak, the flap of the tent lifted and the chief entered, silently observing his family. The children stayed silent, as they often did in their father's presence; not for any major respect or fear, but because Fiyero, despite his status as the chief, was still young. It often startled the children at how young their parents truly were-

Silently, Elphaba tugged on her daughter's braids before standing and going to her husband. Only their mother didn't fear to approach him, for she was not only his wife, but his chieftess, and led by his side. She had just as much power as their father, though was much more outspoken in regards to it. It was often their mother who challenged the counsel, not their father. And for that, she was respected, for her life within the tribe was foreseen many, many moons ago.

Now, though, she slid her arms around her husband's shoulders, tucking herself into his embrace. He held her close, glancing down at her before glancing back at their children. _"Suo figlio è saggio per le sue poche lune, marito."_

Fiyero raised an eyebrow, glancing at his sons. "_E quale potrebbe essere, moglie?_"

Elphaba looked up at him, as he lifted her hand, threading their fingers together. "Irji."

Her husband chuckled. _"Ah, il primo dei nostri figli a venire dal tuo grembo." _She wrinkled her nose but said nothing._ "Non vorrei che altro, mia moglie. Avete portato questa vita alla nostra tribù; non solo attraverso i nostri figli, ma accettando il tuo destino. Ti amo."_ She whispered it back, allowing him to kiss her sweetly before pulling away and turning to their children. _"Vieni, è ora di dire addio al passato e abbracciare il futuro che è proprio dietro l'angolo."_

Excitedly, the children moved past their parents, hurrying to join the rest of the tribe. As Fiyero and Elphaba stepped out of the tent, they heard the sound of hoof beats, and both looked up to find Candle disembarking from her horse, before helping her son down. Mulhama hurried to embrace their younger brother and sister-in-law, before embracing both children. Fiyero glanced at his wife, squeezing her hand. Four years had passed since Candle had borne her twins that long winter night, and though there were still murmurings among the tribe, for the most part, they were left alone, for they lived in the white world.

But Shell and his wife had a good relationship with the Arjiki- because his wife was Arjiki, and his sisters had both married into the tribe- and so he was the only one from the white world, truly accepted by the tribe, for his connection to the chieftess and the medicine woman. He had also proven to be a strong ally of the tribe.

Now, without a word, Shell made his way towards the chief and his wife, stopping before them. It was tribal custom that if an outsider wished to join the festivities, they bring something to give to the chief and his wife; a token of thanks and acceptance. Though it was made clear this was not required for the young white and his family, Shell, every year for the last four years, still brought an offering for his sister and brother-in-law, for he believed in keeping good relations with the tribe, even though his sisters both lived within the tribe and he had proven himself a strong, reliable ally. He held out a basket of fresh baked bread, and after a moment, his sister took it, nodding.

Relieved, Shell looked up, only to find Elphaba set the basket down and tug him into her embrace. _"Devi smettere di portare un'offerta ogni volta che entri nel villaggio. Sei il benvenuto, fratello."_

He held her close. "I know, sister, but I want to make sure we are welcome."

She pulled away, meeting his gaze. _"Sei sempre il benvenuto negli Arjiki, fratello."_


	3. Chapter 3

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**A****/N: ****Written: 2014. Found: 2018.- Licia**

The great bonfire crackled and popped, sending sparks dancing into the night sky. Children raced around, food was eaten and shared, the steady beating of the drums brought the men dancing. She laughed, joining in the celebration, watching as her brothers joined in the dancing. Irji was tall, like their father, and slender, and cut a fine figure; he was proving himself to be a good warrior, despite his seventeen moons, and though their mother still referred to him as her first babe.

And Nor supposed she was right; for Irji had been in the world little under a year when she had come along from her mother's womb. Nor's earliest memories were of her brother, telling her stories and playing with her, protecting her as older brothers should. Her gaze wandered to Manek, who was only a year younger than she. Her baby brother was, though almost as tall as Irji, and just as slender, much closer to their mother's personality. Unlike his brother, Manek was eager to learn everything he could; he'd even managed to talk their parents into letting him sit in on counsel on occasion- even though Irji would be the one to become Chief someday, after their father passed into the next world.

But Elphaba always said that Manek would make a fine counselman, for he loved to debate and discuss, and often drove his siblings crazy with his constant questions, though their mother always responded, giving her youngest son a chance to discuss with someone. Not for the first time, did Nor wonder how she'd ended up sandwiched between two completely different brothers; not necessarily in looks, but in temperament. She loved her brothers, but did not understand how her mother could birth two boys with entire opposing personalities.

It was as though her father's personality had taken residence within Irji, and her mother's in Manek, for they appeared to mirrors of each parent, personality-wise. Oziandra seemed to be a mixture of both her parents in personality, though she, like Nor, looked near identical to Elphaba. Which left Nor herself. She did not entirely have one personality or another, or major aspects of both, like her sister. She half wondered if perhaps she possessed her own personality completely, and that when she was made within her mother's womb, her parents forgot to give her aspects of their own personalities. Not once did it cross her mind that she had once shared her mother's womb with another, or that the personality of her dying twin had passed onto her, as legend stated when one twin died in the womb.

She turned her attention from the dancing to scan the village, her gaze stopping briefly on her aunt and uncle. Tibbett had, like Elphaba, been stolen as a child and raised in the tribe- adopted by Sarima, the former medicine woman who had passed her work onto her son when Nor had turned ten moons, believing he was ready. Tibbett cared deeply for his adoptive mother, and still sought her advice for many things. Mulhama, her mother's younger sister, had run away to join the Arjiki thirteen years earlier after her mother had been captured and brought back to white society. She had married Tibbett, becoming the medicine man's bride and a strong medicine woman in her own right. Their son, Trism, had been conceived and born at the same time Oziandra had, the two cousins were exceptionally close. Mulhama and Tibbett had gone on to have two more children, Milla and Nikko, the youngest of which was born after Shell had found the tribe again.

Her gaze lit on Shell and Candle; the youngest of the three siblings, Shell had helped her mother return to the tribe, and had come back in search of them five years after he helped his sister return. He'd married Candle, a young Arjiki girl who had been as intrigued with him as he her, and they lived in the white world, though they often spent many days with the Arjiki. Candle had born two children back in seventy-two- Grimalkin and Greyling, or Malky and Grey as their cousins called them- and the two four-year-olds had captured not just their parents hearts, but their aunts and uncles as well. Though there always seemed to be a touch of unease in the family in regards to the children, and Nor could never figure out why.

"Nor!" She knelt to embrace both children as they rushed towards her, kissing each on the head. As she listened to them babble on in a mixture of English and Arjiki, her gaze moved in search of her parents. She found her father kissing her mother soundly on the mouth, even as she tried to push him into the dancing. Nor's first memories of such celebration centered around her father dancing; the beautiful lines and movements of his body as he joined the other dancers in the circle. As a small child of one or two moons, settled on her mother's hip, she'd had no idea that her father and mother were the Crown Prince and Princess, they were just her parents.

Elphaba laughed, throwing her head back as Fiyero proceeded to kiss the sleek curve of her throat, and she finally managed to push him away. _"Yero! Vai a ballare, mio marito. Anche gli dei si fermano a guardare quando balli."_

She kissed him one last time before he did as told, joining the dancers in the center. Elphaba caught her oldest daughter's eye, a blush coloring her cheeks. The dancing continued, the drums getting louder and stronger. After scuttling the twins off to find Oziandra, Nor sidled up to her mother. The beautiful, elaborate dress her mother wore made it even more apparent the white of her skin, though it didn't make her any less beautiful. She knew that at some point, her mother would join in the dancing with the other women- for a few of the women also danced; and at first, it had been strange, when Elphaba had first joined in, but over time, as her years with the Arjiki stretched on, it became common to see the white dancing with the tribe, and when she wasn't- oftentimes when she was heavily with child- it felt incomplete. The music and dancing soon stopped, and the men joined the others in the village, it was merely a moment before another song began, and the women broke the circle to dance.

Nor knew she had limited time to say what had been on her mind from that moment in the tent, when she'd discovered her mother's skin was not like theirs, and she reached out to grab her mother's hand. "Mama-"

Elphaba turned to her daughter, the blue green and white paint upon her face making her stand out all the more, and yet blend in at the same time. The beautiful beading upon her dress shone in the firelight, and after a moment, she squeezed her daughter's hand with a smile before hurrying to join the other women.


	4. Chapter 4

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**A****/N: ****Written: 2014. Found: 2018.- Licia**

_Arjiki Encampment, _

_Kellswater, _

_1877_

The old year fell away, and the tribe celebrated as the new year arrived. Moving the cheering, dancing and food, Nor went in search of her parents, first checking the tent the family shared before the tent the counsel often met it. She found them at neither, nor were they anywhere around the village. Deciding to give up, she made her way out into the woods surrounding the village, the stars guiding her overhead.

Laughter reached her ears, and stopped, listening. A soft voice wafted towards her on the wind, and after a moment, she continued on. The voices continued to get louder, and then stop, only to start again. A flash of something caught her eye, and she quickly darted behind a tree, peeking around it. A moment passed, before she realized it was her parents; her mother leaning up against the trunk, her father beside her, one hand trailing down her body, gathering the skirt of her dress up as his fingers splayed against the meat of her thigh. Her mother, for her part, sighed softly in contentment, responding on occasion, though it was evident she was far too relaxed, though by what Nor didn't know.

It was common for the counsel to share a pipe, but that was all it was allowed for-

_"Non più, mio principe. Non ne porterò un altro per te. Quattro è sufficiente. Grande Madre prevedeva quattro provenienti dal mio grembo, non di più."_ Her father chuckled, pulling her close.

_"Conosco bene quanti la Grande Madre ci ha destinati ad avere, mia principessa. Se ti ricordi, ti ho portato la notte scorsa dietro la cascata, e siamo stati attenti."_ His wife gasped in delight as his fingers slid beneath her skirt and up the inside of her thighs. She tangled a hand in his hair, capturing his lips with hers. _"Non ne ho mai abbastanza di te, moglie. Tu sei il più dolce di caprifoglio e io sono il colibrì, per sempre destinato a tornare a voi." _

She giggled. _"Oh, Yero-" _

Nor stepped back, hurrying to flee, for she realized too late that she'd found her parents not just in a compromising position, but an intimate one. However, for all her skill at tracking, she hadn't counted on the light dusting of snow upon the forest floor, and slipped, crashing to the ground with a cry as the wind escaped her lungs. Her parents broke apart, and Nor looked up, to find them standing over her. _"Mama. Papa." _

Elphaba put her hands onto her small hips, a scowl tugging at her pretty features as her husband sighed. Without a word, he helped his daughter stand, before the pair walked her back to the village. Ignoring the celebration around them, the chief and his wife took their oldest daughter into their tent; sitting the teenager down before the fire. Elphaba then knelt before her daughter, studying her for any cuts, and only found a few small bruises. _"Onestamente, Nor, a cosa stavi pensando? Agguato in giro così?"_

The girl glanced at her father. _"Volevo trovarti."_

Elphaba took a deep breath, refusing to allow her husband to cut in. _"Hai mai pensato che io e papà volevamo un po' di tempo per noi stessi? Tempo in cui non dobbiamo guidare la tribù, o essere genitori?"_

Nor shook her head, wincing, as her mother pulled out a small pot with salve in it and began working it over the bruises on her daughter's skin. _"Volevo scusarmi per quello che ho detto prima, Mama."_ Elphaba stopped, turning to her husband. She'd filled Fiyero in out in the woods about the conversation earlier, and he'd simply told her that Nor did not understand because she was young, but that she'd learn over time that skin did not matter. _"Non devi scusarti per ciò che è vero, piccola mia."_

_"Tua Madre è Arjiki nell'anima e questo è tutto ciò che conta, Nor."_ Fiyero spoke up, meeting his daughter's gaze. The girl nodded, and after several minutes, Elphaba let her get up. She slipped out of the tent, rejoining the festivities as her mother stood, going to her husband. She folded her arms over her chest, and he slipped his arms around her waist.

_"Non so cosa fare con quella ragazza a volte. Non è come te e non come me. È quasi come se fosse completamente qualcun altro. Perché lei possiede una personalità completamente diversa per il resto di noi in famiglia." _

Fiyero chuckled. _"Crescerà e imparerà. È come te, affascinata da tutto ciò che vede, desiderosa di imparare tutto." _

His wife smiled softly, before a cloud passed over her features. "Yero?" He met her gaze. _"Non pensi che la leggenda potrebbe essere... Vero? quella... che il bambino che ho perso... trasferito la sua personalità a Nor come è cresciuta nel mio grembo? Questo potrebbe spiegare..." _

He shook his head, pressing a finger to her lips. _"No. Solo una leggenda, moglie, è tutto qui. Una leggenda."_

She looked up at him. _"Ma Nor doveva essere un gemello, Yero. Ne abbiamo fatti due quella notte; e quando ho sentito l'unico morire..." _

He pulled her close, kissing her softly. _"Shh. Solo una leggenda, e niente di più."_ After a moment, she nodded, taking her husband's words to heart, before they left the tent to join the celebration. Neither noticed as Oziandra scampered away from the tent, on her way to grab her wrap, for it was getting cold, and had accidentally overheard her parents talking.

As the child went to join her cousins, she glanced back at her parents. Her sister had been a twin? But then... from what Mama had said, the other one had died in her womb, and only Nor had survived. Perhaps that _was_ the reason for the oddness of her older sister's personality. Either way, she knew she couldn't say anything; it was Mama's secret to tell. Silently, as she joined Trism, Milla and Nikko in a game, she promised Mama that she would never tell what she knew. Not even Great Mother herself would ever be able to make her tell.

And certainly not her sister.


	5. Chapter 5

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

**A****/N: ****Written: 2014. Found: 2018.- Licia**

Nor kept close watch on her parents, making sure they didn't wander too far, though she didn't know why. Mama and Papa were adults, they didn't need to be watched like children. As the new dawn on the first day of the new year began to appear, Fiyero gathered the tribe; Elphaba joined his side, looking every bit the part the dutiful Chieftess she was, standing by her husband's side, in that beautiful buckskin dress with the blue and red beading. Elphaba wore a simple beaded headband with a beautifully intricate design upon it. The customary four dove grey feathers she always wore- that she had worn from the moment of her marriage, for only the wife of the Crown Prince or Chief was allowed the four feathers, though the reason why had been lost to history- were woven into her hair along with the leather strands of beads.

Nor couldn't help thinking that Mama was perhaps the most beautiful woman in the tribe, even though she had not been born of the tribe. But as she stood beside Papa, both of them dressed in all their finery, it was now evident exactly how beautiful they were together. For Papa's ruddy brown skin beautifully contrasted with Mama's beautifully milky skin, and in the light of the fire, she almost looked similar to Papa. She watched in silence as Papa slid his arm around Mama's waist with ease, pulling her close.

"_Abbiamo visto molto quest'anno; e siamo grati alla Grande Madre per tutto ciò che ci ha fornito, perché facciamo del nostro meglio per provvedere a lei in cambio. E in questi ultimi anni, ci ha fornito molta fortuna e cuori forti tra di loro-_" Everyone caught the look the Chief cast to his wife, as he turned to meet her gaze. They knew he was speaking of her, and her deep link to the tribe, how Great Mother had prophesized her arrival many, many, many moons before she or the chief had been born, and how her return from the white man's world had not only saved herm but the tribe.

It was evident, as everyone watched, that the Chief deeply loved his wife, and that she loved him just as deeply. Gently, he reached up, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes, and she closed her eyes at his touch. _"Ringraziamo la Grande Madre per tutto ciò che ci ha dato, e tutto ciò che continuerà a provvedere a noi nel prossimo anno e negli anni successivi."_

Now, Nor watched as her father nodded for the drummers to begin. Slowly, the steady rhythm began to play; a rhythm all Arjiki children grew up following, from the time they were in the womb until they crossed into the next world. She knew this dance that was to begin; it was praise to Great Mother for helping them through the past winter and allowing them to see the new year.

And it was the one dance both men and women were allowed to partake in together.

She watched, a smile tugging at her lips as Papa gently stroked Mama's cheek with his thumb, before leaning down and capturing her lips in a kiss, tugging her closer. Mama reached up, resting her hand against his wrist, drinking him in, her eyes sliding closed. The village, used to seeing their Chief and Chieftess often partake in subtle moments of affection, cheered, for dawn had broken over the horizon, and in Arjiki tradition, the first kiss shared at the breaking of the new dawn by the Chief and his wife meant that they would continue to lead fairly and be able to face any new challenge that faced the tribe with grace and respect, together.

Many knew that Chief Avaric, Fiyero's father, had not had the option for every new year, for his wife had passed in childbirth and taken the babe with her when Fiyero had been no more than six moons. He had then turned the old tradition on its head- for the first new year Elphaba spent with the tribe, Avaric had informed the girl that it was old Arjiki tradition that the Crown Prince and Princess share a kiss as the new dawn broke, for good luck in the coming year. And Elphaba, still new to the tribe, had believed her father-in-law, though her husband knew different. But over time, it had gotten to be a common thing to see the Crown Prince and Princess kissing at the new dawn of the new year, that by now, it would have been strange had the Chief and his wife_ not_ kissed at the new dawn.

When they finally broke the kiss, Fiyero whispered softly to her before kissing her forehead. He pulled away from her, moving to the join the others in the dance, before turning back, and taking her hand. She shook her head, but he kept tugging, until he got his wife to join the other dancers. The steady beating got louder, and soon the singing began. Nor and her siblings- for Irji and Manek chose to sit this one out, in order to watch their parents- watched in delight, seated near their aunts and uncles and cousins, as the men and women partook in the dance.

The children knew this dance; they'd watched their parents partake in it for years; for Irji, the strongest memory he had was of Mama and Papa getting up to join in the dancing at the dawn of the new year. Mama had been newly pregnant with Nor, and she'd insisted on joining the dancing, saying it was tradition, even though Papa had had reservations about her dancing with their new child growing just a month within her womb. But Mama had insisted, as she always did, and gotten her way, as she often did. And Papa had taken extra care with her, for the dance was a partner dance, and that care had carried through each year, regardless of whether she carried a child in her womb. Though given that Manek had followed Nor a year later, and with Oziandra growing in her womb not long after she returned to the tribe, she had been forced to sit the dancing out, for both she and Mulhama had been greatly swollen with child then. Mama had been miserable, not necessarily because of the babe, but because she hadn't been able to join in the dancing, and Papa had done all he'd could to make it up to her, even though it was his child she carried in her womb, and therefore, by Mama's belief, his fault.

But now, the four royal children sat together, watching as their parents joined in; the light from the flames casting sparks into the air and making the milky whiteness of Mama's skin vanish for a time. Traditionally, in dances, couples didn't touch, or, more commonly, the sexes didn't mix, however this was the one dance where they did. Papa took Mama's hand, pulling her close. "_Questa è la parte in cui Papà la bacia_." Manek whispered to Nikko, who sat in his lap. The child made a face in disgust, and Manek laughed.

The dancing continued; Nor glanced over her shoulder towards where Aunt Mulhama, Uncle Tibbett, Aunt Candle and Uncle Shell were; Shell, as usual, was enthralled by the dancing. He seemed to be enthralled by everything in regards to the tribe his sisters lived in. Perhaps it was the difference in the way of life, or the fact that Elphaba had lived sixteen years of her short thirty-three years within the tribe, for she had not set foot in the white world since her return, spurning any and all to do with it _except_ her beloved little brother. And Shell never asked her to come to their home, for he knew the unease his sister still carried in her heart in regards to the white's world. Shell and Candle were the link to the white world the sisters retained; for though the years had passed, their parents still lived, though even Shell had broken ties with Frexpar and Melena.

And Nor, having heard the story of her mother's week in the white world, always wondered why Uncle Shell had broken off ties with his parents so willingly. He had not been the one searched for for seven years; he had not built a life, a family like his sister had. And yet, he willingly watched as his sister's unwillingness to reassimilate- as well as his other sister's disappearance in search of her sister's tribe- tore their already fractured family apart. And then proceeded to walk away from his parents without a backwards glance, to marry a tribeswoman, to have children with her, and reconnect with his older sisters. Nor shivered; she couldn't imagine doing so with Mama and Papa, for they were a part of her.

_But that was a different time; Mama had been stolen as a child, and stolen back as an adult. Her family did not understand her or the life she chose. It makes sense, that Uncle Shell would leave his family in search of his sisters, for it is evident they love each other deeply._

With the dancing finishing, people began to mingle; occasionally, someone would come up and greet Shell and Candle, but never for long. No longer mistrusting of the white, for he had proven himself an ally, some in the tribe still watched him carefully. Elphaba, however, stayed away, for she and Fiyero were deep in conversation with Sarima. A moment passed, before the young Chieftess glanced back at her family, catching Nor's eye, before she turned back to Sarima and nodded. Without a word to their family, the young leaders followed the former medicine woman and the shaman into the counsel tent, the festivities forgotten. Their departure didn't go unnoticed by their children or Elphaba's siblings, though the adults tried to hide that they'd been watching, and after a moment, Nor snuck off, saying something about going back to their tent to get a wrap. Once out of sight of her aunts and uncles, she hurried to the counsel tent, worried. The look in Mama's eyes was one Nor had only seen once before- when Papa had banished her from the tribe after her came back from the white man's world.


End file.
